


"People Read Palms to Tell Your Future, But I Read Hands to Tell Your Past"

by Dragonpheonix19998



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Hogwarts Era, Non-Canon Relationship, Post - Deathly Hallows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-02 01:32:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2794865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonpheonix19998/pseuds/Dragonpheonix19998
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione disapparated and landed in the small cemetery of Godric’s Hollow where Lily and James Potter, Remus and Tonks Lupin, Molly and Arther Weasley, Sirius Black were buried. There was another buried here that Hermione had come to visit. His grave was at the end of the row. </p><p>Frederick Gideon Weasley<br/>1 April 1978—2 May 1998<br/>Mischief</p><p>Hermione knelt down slowly by the grave and brushed the snow and overgrown fauna off the surface. Her knees collided with the snow-covered ground that cushioned her sudden loss of control of her legs. She panted heavily and laid her forehead against the cold stone. Her cold fingers traced the name on the grave once and once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I heard from my sister of a rumour that J.K. Rowling had wanted to pair Fred and Hermione together and whether that rumour is true or not, I had started to consider this pairing. And yes! They do make sense! Yet, I wanted to explore the dynamics of Ron and Hermione's relationship post DH.
> 
> Please do leave behind reviews, they are always appreciated. Thank you!:)

_Hermione Granger clutched the old photograph taken of Dumbledore’s Army to her chest. It had fallen out of one of the pages of her old History of Magic textbooks when she was clearing the attic to make space for her grandchildren’s old toys. The figures of the photograph waved at her from the floor and she spotted a certain pair of ginger twins that made her heart ache. They had placed a glob of bright pink slime on Ron’s head and were laughing at it instead of looking at the camera._

_She held the picture with her gnarled hands, stroking the photograph with a wrinkled finger almost lovingly. A passerby would have thought Hermione was being nostalgic but that was not so. In truth, she was desperately trying to recall the warm freckled face beneath her palm that had evaded her memories this past half century._

  _ _~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~__

Hermione Granger stood between the platforms nine and ten, scrunching her eyebrows together, trying to figure out how to get onto the train platform of nine and three-quarters. If she had not mistaken, the fat little boy and his grandmother had simply disappeared into the wall dividing both platforms nine and ten.

“Nine and three-quarters,” she mumbled to herself. “Does that mean I have to walk closer to the right?”

“I really doubt that would make a difference, sweetie.” Her father spoke up and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Your trolley is almost the breadth of the wall.”

“Well then, I suppose I’ll just build a momentum and see where it takes me.” Hermione took a deep breath and looked up at the smiling faces of her parents.

Her mother nodded and sniffed. She had hugged her daughter countless times the entire morning and yet, at this particular point of parting, she wanted to hold her only daughter in an embrace that would never end. Hermione gave her parents a big hug and the three huddled together and whispered their love for one another.

“I’ll see you at Christmas!” Hermione whispered and turned around before she could witness her mother cry.

Placing both hands at the handle of the trolley, she pushed and picked up speed. Just as she was about to collide with the wall, it disappeared and she emerged onto a different train platform where a large crimson train was towering over the various robed figures on the platform. The words “Hogwarts Express” were attached to the front of the train on a golden plaque. Hermione knew at once that her fears that had plagued her throughout the entire summer were unwarranted. Here she was, at the start of a magical adventure.

When her family had opened the door to admit a strange woman in a pointed hat and emerald green robes, she had thought it was just another horrible prank her schoolmates were playing on her. But she evaluated the situation like a detective from one of her beloved Nancy Drew stories and decided that it was impossible for her schoolmates to bother to go to such extents to trick the nerdy outcast. And if a prank was out of the question, this school—Hogwarts had to be real, along with its claims that magic was a reality. The woman—who said her name was Professor McGonagall—had explained about Hogwarts and the existence of a magical community. Hermione, determined not to be left behind in this new school and new environment, decided that she must do everything she must to ensure that she excelled in this new talent. She would show Mandy Goodwill and her cronies that she was better than them. She was a witch!

Just then, someone had slammed into her, causing her to fall over her trolley and trunk and landing in a painful heap on the floor. The person in question had fallen right on top of her. What a great way to start her exciting new journey, she thought sullenly. She pushed the figure off her and got up briskly despite the throbbing in her elbow and chest. She glared at the dazed red head teenager with a twinkle of mischief dancing in his cerulean eyes, who was presently peering at her over the ruined trolley.

“Next time, watch where you are going!” She spluttered as she heaved her trunk and hauled it to the nearest empty compartment. She did not turn to see another red head with the same eyes laughing and helping his brother up. The first boy turned to give Hermione an inquisitive look, he had slipped something into her pockets and he hoped that this brown bushy haired girl with fiery brown eyes would take his prank in her stride.

“All right Fred?” George Weasley asked as he helped his brother untangle himself from the broken trolley.

“All right George.” He rubbed his bum and grinned up at his twin. “Let’s go see what Lee is up to!”

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_“Hermione love,” called a voice from below. Hermione dropped the photograph, having been startled from her reverie. “We’ve got to go to Harry’s for Christmas dinner in half and hour.”_

_“Coming!” She responded with all the enthusiasm she could muster. She slipped the photograph into her pocket and slowly made her way down the rickety ladder._

_Ron stood there holding the ladder steady. Ron, her wonderful loving husband, the pillar of strength, how could she have forgotten this kind, affectionate man! She took his hand as she reached the bottom step and stepped off promptly, straightening her skirt and blouse. He gazed at her, tenderly brushing a stray curl from her face. The couple stood there and said nothing._

_“Have you been crying?” He asked after a moment, scrutinizing her face. “You know they won’t truly be gone just because they’ve grown up and all—” He continued to say. But Hermione stopped him by pulling out the old photograph. He glanced at it for a second and was silent. After all these years, Ronald Weasley was still stunned for words when he was confronted with the loss after the recent Wizarding War._

_“Well, we’d better get ready now.” Hermione muttered, stowing the photograph into her pocket and heading across the hallway to her bedroom, leaving her husband staring after her, fears and insecurities of the past rising up from beneath the cobwebs of his mind._


	2. A Circle Has No Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> I'm so sorry to have kept you all waiting. I lost my muse last month but she has decided to grace me with her presence and company so here is the revised version of the story for you! I hope you enjoy it! Please leave behind reviews! They're always appreciated.
> 
> NB: I've done a one-shot on the prank Hermione plays on both Fred and George in Fool For No One. It can be a sequel to the Prologue of this story. Check it out!

_Hermione Granger bustled around her bedroom, picking out suitable eveningwear for Harry's Christmas Party. At her dresser, Hermione's fingers found a small tarnished object in the far corner of her drawer and pulled it out. The locket was in a shape of a cat with unnaturally long silver whiskers who was currently asleep. On other days, the cat would stretch and prowl about the length of the chain. Some days, it contented itself with licking its paws and glancing ever so often at the comings and goings around it. However, it had been locked up in the dark depths of Hermione's drawer for more than a decade that it had decided to go into hibernation._

_Hermione stroked the tarnished silver cat but it merely continued to sleep. It had no patience for an owner who took it out once every few years to admire it._

_"What's that you've got there?" Ron appeared by the doorway of their room._

_"Nothing." Hermione placed it on the vanity. The cat stirred and opened an eye to glance at Hermione._

_"I don't remember you having that."_

_"I've always had it."_

_Ron stood at the entrance to their room and watched his wife of forty-four years carass the tarnished silver object in her hand. The two of them had helped to rebuild the wizarding world that had been destroyed by Voldemort's dark reign but the bright yellow wallpaper and gradual extensions of their room were reflective of the life they had built together after the war. The small vanity by her side of the bed was an addition in their early thirties, he had levitated it up the staircase of their newly built house after he had received a promotion. The extended walk-in closet was added to the room when Hermione was at the height of her career as the Head of Department of the Magical Law Enforcement, it took Hermione exactly two hours to magically enhance the room to include her walk in closet and took Ron two days to build the closet walls. Every little detail in their room marked a time period in their lives and Ron was glad it had turned out the way it had despite the many bouts of depression and insecurities that threatened to tear their marriage apart. Somehow, between the forty years of matrimony and family life, Ron wanted to believe that he and Hermione had created something precious and momentous. But the look on her face as she descended the ladder and the way she held the photograph in her hand like a precious artifact planted doubts in Ron's mind._

_"Do you think, if Fred had lived, things would have been different?" He finally managed to swallow the lump in his throat and voice this same question to his wife, as he had a thousand times in their time together._

_"How many times have we been through this, Ron?" Hermione sighed as she clipped on the pearl earrings Ginny had gotten her last Christmas._

_"This will be the last time," Ron promised as she picked out her coat._

_"Ron, I don't know how many times I must say this. There is no point in contemplating the possibilities of that particular situation. It does no one any good."_

_There was a long pause. Both husband and wife held each other's gaze, one trying to probe for any indication of love while the other pleading that the subject be dropped and spoken about no more for it wounded her beyond measure to see so little trust between the two of them._

_"Would you have picked me?" Ron asked finally._

_"That's a ridiculous question." Hermione looked hurt so Ron nodded at her answer. He was resigned to the speculations that had surrounded his subconscious since Fred's untimely death at the Battle of Hogwarts nearly sixty years ago._

_Hermione watched his retreating back and sighed. It was no use trying to reconcile the what ifs and could have beens. But the image of a red head wearing an Irish Shamrock hat smiling at her kept appearing in her minds eye despite the many attempts to wipe it out of mind. Hermione conceded to indulge herself for she had long suppressed those memories and she closed her eyes._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Hermione Granger had never been to a Quiddich match outside of school. She had no connections whatsoever to the magical world outside her school life and it made her slightly uncomfortable when Ron or Ginny mentioned something like Quiddich World Cup or Hollyhead Harpies. You see, Hermione was a muggle-born, meaning a witch that had non-magical parents, who grew up listening to stories like Cinderella and played sports like cricket and football. Not that Hermione played any sort of sports, her hand-eye coordination was simply atrocious and she was glad to be rid of any sort of compulsory physical education at Hogwarts. She was thankful that the school did not give Malfoy another reason to taunt her.

She had been teased and bullied enough at Hogwarts, thank you very much. So, naturally when a small fluffy owl carrying a letter from Ron, telling her that Mr. Weasley had gotten them all tickets to watch the Quiddich World Cup and that she was invited to stay with them for the rest of the holidays, she was taken by surprise. It was the first time Ron had invited her over to the Weasley house and the first time she had ever heard of such a thing as Quiddich World Cup and it was heartening that Ron, Ginny and their family would include her in this.

With that thought, Hermione set about packing her things for her stay at the Weasleys. She brought along a backpack, packed into her trunk with her necessities. She gazed at the wall opposite her room, which was nearly all covered with bookshelves and stacks upon stacks of books with subject topics ranging from Quantum physics to A History of Magic. Hermione glanced at the collection of paperback novels and wondered whether she would need them this year. She shook her head, silly me, of course I would need it. She began to gather them into her trunk, along with some other staple books like Hogwarts a History, History of Magic, Voyaging with Vampires, a personal favorite of hers.

Wednesday came quicker than she had imagined, Hermione had not decided what to pack for her stay at the Burrow. She was still contemplating the books she should bring to read, picking out the volumes from her shelves and carrying them back and forth from her trunk in the hall and her room. It was about late afternoon, while Hermione was returning her collection of C.S. Lewis books back to her shelf when Mr. Weasley arrived in the living room with soot still clinging onto his shoulders. Behind him were Ron, Fred, George and Ginny. Hermione had appeared in the living room and was carrying a stack of books to pack into her trunk, but dropped them as Ginny came rushing out of the fireplace to give her a hug.

"All right all right! Let the girl breathe!" George had chuckled, gently detaching Ginny away from Hermione while Ron and Fred had bent down to pick up her books.

"Oh Hermione! I've missed you! After living so long with this bunch," she pointed at her three brothers behind her. "I've forgotten how lovely it was to have another girl around to talk to."

George gave Ginny a wounded look and placed a hand against his heart in a dramatic fashion.

"There there Georgie, we've been excellent company as always. Ginny just doesn't know how to appreciate it." Fred sniffed melodramatically. Ginny rolled her eyes.

Her parents appeared in the living room bearing drinks and a plate of assorted biscuits for the guests. Mr. Weasley treated her parents like old friends and was assaulting her parents with questions about muggle objects. Hermione suspected her parents were the only muggles who tolerated Mr. Weasley’s strange remarks and innocent curiosity, gently correcting him and educating him like a patient schoolteacher.

"Oh Bill arrived last night Hermione! I hope you like him! Maybe you could fall in love with him and we'll really be sisters then!" Ginny gushed as she plopped down beside Hermione on the couch. The boys smirked and Ginny gave them a glower to silence them.

"Ginny! He's almost twice my age!" Hermione gasped.

"But he's the only decent brother!" Ginny replied.

"Excuse me! I would rather like to argue that accusation." George, who helped himself to a ginger biscuit, spluttered in indignation. "I believe you're overlooking your most decent brother sitting right here."

"Please, George is too full of himself, I'm the most decent brother." Fred had waved at the girls like he was the King of England.

Ron snorted and took a few more butter shortbreads.

“But we agree on something at least—" George looked at Ginny then at Hermione.

“Absolutely!”

"Ron's—"

"A twat!" they both said together and gave both girls a benevolent smile before dissolving into snickers. A red faced Ron threw a ginger biscuit at the twins; it hit Fred’s head and bounced off onto Hermione’s.

The Granger parents did not hear the cause of commotion amongst the kids as Mr. Weasley had kept her parents occupied by asking about computers and electricity and the Internet (a newly discovered phenomenon that Mr. Weasley had made and it kept him jittering in excitement when her father showed him how it worked). Fred and George rolled their eyes and took her trunk from the hall and floo-ed back to the Burrow, apparently bored out of their wits with the conversation in the Granger household. Ron, on the other hand, was telling Hermione as many things as he could about the World Cup, with Ginny inserted her comments every now and then.

It was not until Mrs. Weasley's head popping up from the fireplace and reminding them about dinner, scaring Mrs. Granger into spilling her juice all over herself, that Mr. Wealsey gave up trying to figure out the Internet and conceded to taking everyone home.

"Do take this!" Her father passed a couple of hundred pound notes to Mr. Weasley. "This is for any expenses and for the trouble.” Mr. Weasley politely declined the offer.

"It is our pleasure to have Hermione stay at the Burrow!" Mr. Weasley told her parents and pushed the notes back to her father. Hermione wanted to tear up at this gesture.

But her father insisted that Mr. Weasley take the money and convert it to wizarding Galleons in an exchange of ‘no, you must’s and ‘I insist’s. In the end, Mr. Weasley left the Granger home with their muggle money in his pocket with a promise to come back and learn more about muggle computers.

Hermione dissolved in green flames and appeared in a shabby looking living room decorated with a few tatty couches and an old rocking chair. Seated in one of the yellow armchairs was a tall, rather handsome man with a mane of ginger hair, tied into a ponytail. He was deep in conversation with Charlie Weasley, who was still as burly and scarred as Hermione had seen in her first year if not even more so.

"Hello, you must be Hermione Granger, I'm Bill Wealsey." Bill ignored Ron and strode forward to grasp Hermione's hand. "This is Charlie, I've been told you've met."

"Lovely to see you again Hermione! You've gotten prettier!" Charlie's eyes twinkled with the same mischievousness as the twins. Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair. "What's it I hear of stealing Snape's private stores?"

"Oh stop making Hermione feel uncomfortable Charlie." Ginny spoke up from behind but the second oldest brother simply ruffled her hair.

"Dinner's ready!” the matron of the Weasley household called out. “Hermione, just leave your things here, you can bring it up later." Mrs. Weasley gave Hermione a hug and led her into the kitchen.

Dinner at the Burrow was never a quiet affair. Conversation at the dinner table touched a spectrum of topics, including Percy's covert secret that his precious Mr. Crouch had been working on the past few months. Hermione was too keen to deflate Percy's ego to quench her curiosity. Although Percy and Hermione could get along fairly well with each other, Hermione did not approve of the way Percy placed himself above all others.

"Fred and George Weasley, you two had better stop leaving fake wands all over the place!" Mrs. Weasley's shrill voice startled Hermione from her conversation with Bill about his work in Egypt.

"Fake… wands?" Hermione queried as leaned across the table to catch a glimpse of the limp rubber chicken in Mrs. Weasley's hand.

"Amazing right?" Ron grinned. "I had been wondering what the two of them had been doing all summer, locked up in their rooms."

"Mmm…" Hermione knew immediately it was a transfigurative charm that was enchanted to activate at first touch and was not nearly as impressed as Ron was. She simply nodded stiffly in response. Fred and George were brilliant but Hermione felt that they should channel that intelligence into their education.

"Well, if you had made better use of your time, you might have done slightly better in your O.W.L.s." Percy smirked. The twins scowled at him and made rude gestures at him behind their parents' backs.

"Exactly!" Mrs. Weasley had exclaimed, turning to the twins and proceeded to give the twins a lengthy lecture on their future. And so passed the evening of Hermione’s arrival.

Hermione's initial distaste for Percy's arrogance had transgressed into revulsion. The Quiddich World Cup had been enjoyable but the events that had transpired after left Hermione with a sick feeling in her gut. Wizards were starting to become no different from extremist groups. And Percy had the audacity to accuse the house elf of being disobedient. To Hermione, Percy exemplified traits that were similar to the Malfoys and their pro pure blood values and worldviews. This was discrimination at its finest and Hermione Granger had enough of it.

"She didn't run amok! She just picked it up off the ground!" Hermione shouted and the entire tent fell silent. Even Bill and Charlie were looking at Hermione warily. Mr. Weasley shook his head.

Fred had never heard Hermione shout. Exasperated and annoyed, yes. Angry? Never. For the first time in his life, Fred felt sorry for Percy. Hermione glowered at the bespectacled red head even as Ron broke the tension with his ill knowledge of the dark mark.

"Look, can someone just explain what the skull this was? Why is it such a big deal?" Ron had queried, breaking the formidable silence. After spending four years with the bushy brunette, he had learned to ignore her during her bursts of anger. This anger and impatience was not unfamiliar to Ron since it was often directed at him.

"I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron. I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts." Hermione had explained in an exasperated tone.

While the rest of the Weasley clan was explaining to Ron and Harry about the dark mark, Fred observed Hermione. He wondered where the bossy, arrogant girl disappeared off to. He knew Hermione was intelligent and had her own opinion about almost everything. He knew she would stand beside Harry to fight against all the evil in the world but Fred merely thought it was just Hermione doing what was right. Fred reevaluated the girl in front of him and realized there was so much to her that he never bothered to find out. He realized that for the past four years, he had seen her as his little brother's best friend, the nerd of the Gryffindor Common Room, the brightest witch of her generation but never as a defender of the weak. Through her years at Hogwarts, the way she competed to be the best was almost ruthless, putting the Ravenclaws to shame. It never made sense for anyone to suspect Hermione of defending a lowly creature such as the house elves. Fred marveled at this new discovery.

The following day, the Weasley clan, Hermione and Harry had returned to the Burrow, where they would spend the rest of the summer. Mrs. Weasley had been sending the boys on household chores every now and then; degnoming the garden, cleaning the hen coop, feeding the farm animals; while she had the girls helping her with dinner and laundry. Fred and George hardly had any time to themselves to procure any ingredients for their next range of products as well as to remake the Ton Tongue Toffees that had been confiscated the day they had left for the Quiddich World Cup.

However, Fred did chance upon Hermione behind an old oak tree in the Burrow's backyard one sunny afternoon while clearing out the gnomes. Hermione was curled up beneath the shaded canopy and was reading her Arithmancy textbook quite intently. Fred strode over and plopped down beside the brunette. She barely acknowledged his arrival.

"I was wondering when you would be coming to ask about your Weasley Wizard Wheezes." Hermione spoke up, setting her book down. Her brown eyes searched his, as if trying to decipher his true intentions. But Fred had no such objective. Not at the moment. Of course, both he and George had been discussing on how to broach the subject with Hermione because they both knew they could not fool Hermione once she was aware of WWW. All the same, they had drafted out a business plan, charted out their budget and done some publicity through their schoolmates. They did not require Hermione’s assistance per se, but it would speed up their output greatly. Fred had simply wanted to talk to her but did not know how to broach a casual conversation with the brunette.

"Err…"

"The answer is no. I agree with Mrs. Weasley. You two ought to spend more time on your education." Hermione looked up at him and watched him struggle through different emotions—confusion, shock, frustration and then a glint of amusement.

"All right then, I'll not intrude on your reading." He gave a mock salute and left her under the old oak tree. He shook his head and tried to think of the next range of products for the WWW. He had to get himself together or he’s sure to lose it.

Hermione must have dozed off somewhere between Fred's departure and dusk because she found herself no longer in the garden of the Burrow. Instead she was walking along the slightly familiar streets of Paris. Hermione had spent one summer in France just before commencing her third year, where she had discovered the existence of other magical communities outside Britain. But the street she was walking was no where near the magical village in Paris. She passed building after building and stopped outside a rather dilapidated church, which was boarded up. Like in all dreams, there were rarely anyone around the vicinity and Hermione could not ask passerbys about the strange church. It looked deserted but she could see a flicker of light come from the gaps of the boarded up doors.

Curiosity got the better of her and she walked toward it, almost dreamlike. The ground around the church was uneven, the cobblestone path was bumpy. As she drew nearer, she could hear chanting and the flickering of flames seem to grow brighter. Distantly, Hermione wondered whether the people gathered in the church were wizards. That would explain how they got into the church in the first place and it made sense to use such a dilapidated building since muggles would hardly venture into the premise. Just like Hogwarts, Hermione thought.

She must have been insane to peek through the holes in the wooden planks because what she saw in the church made her scream. In between the dream-like state and reality, all she could see was the remnants of a vindictive smile.


	3. You Are A Woman Who Can Build It Herself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to develop the relationship between Ginny and Hermione. I feel that they deserve some love. This chapter is dedicated to the close bonds of love and friendship between girls and yes, sisters. It's the subtlety of the nature of this kind of bond between women and girls that makes it so special. The title is a quote from Sarah Kay's poem "The Type", which was written for her best friend, something I found fitting for this chapter. I hope you enjoy this installment! Please review!
> 
> A shoutout to my bestfriends and my sister: like Ginny and Hermione, we can withstand the Dark Lord and the test of time xx

Hermione’s eyes popped open. Breathing hard, she stared at the ceiling above her. Ginny’s magical night lamp was casting the constellations onto the darken room and Libra glinted in the corner of the room. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. Hermione checked her portable alarm clock. 4 a.m. Crikey, she had school tomorrow!

“Hermione?” A groggy Ginny called out in the darkness.

“Did I wake you?”

“Yeah, you were talking in your sleep.” Hermione could hear Ginny shift on her mattress. “Bad dream?”

“Yes.”

“I used to get those…after he…You-Know-Who… he…”

“Does anyone know about this?” Hermione inquired, sitting up. “You know you’ve got to tell someone, preferably Dumbledore, this.”

“Calm down Hermione!” Ginny exclaimed. “Dumbledore knows about it. He told me to go to him if anything… unusual occurs.”

“And?”

“I’m fine!”

“I guess if Dumbledore thinks its fine.” Hermione lay back down onto her pillows.

They lay silent for a long while. Hermione wondered whether Ginny was asleep yet. Hermione could not sleep. Not so fast. The dream was still fresh in her mind.

“So, do you think Harry would notice me this year?” Ginny asked. If Hermione could see in the dark, she would have seen Ginny blushing furiously.

Hermione looked up from crafting her mental checklist. This was a conversation she had been meaning to have with Ginny. But she did not know how to broach the subject. Harry was her best friend, for crying out loud! Yet, Hermione felt responsible to educate Ginny on the art of being a sophisticated respectable young woman. Ginny, in her opinion, had to grow out of childish fantasies and infatuations especially when it concerned Harry.

“Ginny, the best way to attract a boy…” Hermione trailed off because she was not exactly sure what the best way to attract boy was. Was she really the best person to tell Ginny this?

“Yes?” Ginny inquired eagerly, her interest piqued.

“Is to be a strong independent woman.” Hermione finished. “Like Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Who?”

“Elizabeth Bennet, my favorite female character.” Hermione stood up and pulled out her trunk, which she had bewitched with the Undetectable Expandable Charm to hold more books than it looked. There was a small compartment that shelved her favorite novels from her childhood, from Enid Blyton to J.R.R. Tolkein. Hermione ran her fingers against the worn spines and pulled out her battered copy of _Pride and Prejudice,_ which was just visible in the near dark room. She handed it to Ginny. “Read it when you have the time.”

“Thank you Hermione.” Ginny grinned. “Harry did ask me whether the Quiddich match was good last week.”

Hermione shook her head, frowning in the dark. “Elizabeth was stubborn and unrelenting, refusing to settle for anything less.” Hermione stated. “Harry is still… a boy. He doesn’t know what romance is yet. Give him time to mature into a man. And give yourself time to do something meaningful like finding yourself and finding something you’re passionate in. Harry would like an independent girl, someone who can defend herself, have her own interests and know how to have fun around him.”

“He would?” Ginny’s eyes were as large as Dobby’s. Hermione crossed her fingers and hoped that she was not giving bad advice. She had never had a female friend before, let alone a little sister who needed advice. But Hermione gave it her best because she knew Ginny to be a girl of independent thought and a great sense of humor and Harry appreciated that kind of thing. But until Ginny became more comfortable herself with him, Hermione doubt she stood a chance. Besides, Harry was too young to begin thinking of having a girlfriend. Hermione gave him a year or less before he discovered girls.

“Affirmative.” Hermione nodded. “You’re a beautiful girl who would grow into a beautiful strong woman one day and that’s what you want him to see: a beautiful, intelligent, dignified, strong and independent woman.”

“Oh Hermione, I really wish you were my real sister.” Ginny had tucked the book into the small tattered backpack in the corner of her bed. “Maybe someday you would be…” She was thoughtful.

Hermione laughed. “I really hope not.”

“My brothers are rather disgusting aren’t they?” Ginny was thoughtful again. Then she blushed and looked at Hermione rather shyly. “Thank you, for being a great friend. Even though I tried to kill you last semester.” Ginny looked crestfallen and a ghost of the torment she had endured seemed to pass over her.

“Oh Ginny, you were possessed by Voldemort! I could hardly blame you for it.” Hermione took her hands in hers. “Look, he’s destroyed now, you’re free of him.”

“But sometimes, I can still hear his horrid thoughts, egging me on.” Ginny placed her head in her hands, ashamed.

“Ginny, you need to put that behind you. You have to be strong because I doubt this would be the last time we would encounter Voldemort.” Hermione sat beside her and stroked her ginger hair. “And Death Eaters are on the loose. We’ve got a lot of battles that we have yet to fight. You _cannot_ crumble now.” Hermione insisted.

“You’re right.” Ginny sniffed. She sat up a little straighter. “I’m not another of Voldemort’s victims. I’m Ginny Weasley, a strong independent woman… girl.”

“Yes you are.” Hermione got up and walked over to her bed. “Now get some sleep. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

That was the last Hermione and Ginny had a private conversation in a long while for Harry had been elected to participate in the Triwizard Tournament and Hermione spent more time in the library, desperately trying to find something that would keep Harry alive. Hermione was certain that someone was plotting to murder Harry and she had a few curses and hexes mastered. Just in case.

Fred and George were sharing the library with the two best friends during that time as well. For some reason Fred kept insisting on the library despite George’s protests that the seats in the Common Room were more comfortable. Fred had developed a sudden love being in the library. George understood there were spells and potions that could help them with their products in the library but it was pointless doing so much research when they had lost all their funds because of their bet with Ludo Bagman. They could not afford another Ton Tongue Toffee, let alone any ingredients for the new range of products. But Fred insisted and George found it rather odd that Fred liked to take up the table diagonally across where Hermione was but he was silent about it. Apparently Fred was not the only one who liked library spots that gave them a direct view of the Gryffindor brunette.

After the first task, Harry was no longer around Hermione that often since he had another few months before the next task. Hermione spent her free time researching elf rights, doing her homework and making SPEW badges. And since the announcement of the Yule Ball, it was a rare occurrence to catch a girl wandering alone but Hermione had never been the typical girl. No, Hermione was unique.

Fred paced the shelves in the Potions section. He had not asked anyone to the ball yet and was wondering whether he should ask Hermione. From what he had heard, Ron had not asked her yet. Fred could ask her. Just as friends. George glanced up from his parchment.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing—I—”

“Are you asking Angelina to the ball?”

“No, why?”

“Well, I thought I could ask her, seeing as you know, we’re Quiddich mates and all.”

“Yeah you should, before all the good ones are gone.” Fred nodded frantically at George. “I could ask her for you if you want.”

“Nah, I’ll try my way. I hope she likes flowers.”

“No she doesn’t.”

“Maybe chocolates?”

But Fred was not listening to George. Another conversation was taking place behind the shelves they were currently stationed at.

“Vould you like to go to ze ball wizz me?” Krum’s baritone could be heard. Fred tried to look through the books to see who he was asking to the ball. Surely not Hermione!

“Um… Yes, I suppose I would.” It was her voice. Definitely her voice. Fred felt like someone had tied his leg to a rock and left him to sink slowly to the bottom of the Black Lake.

“Very vell. I’ll see you then.” Fred could almost imagine Krum bow and kiss her knuckles like the slick git he was. Fred was livid. He wanted to punch something. He stalked back to where George was seated.

George looked up and was startled.

“What in Merlin’s name is wrong with you? Were you even listening to me?”

“She—Krum—”

“Oh Fred! George! What are you doing here?” Hermione appeared by their corner.

“Top secret information. We can’t divulge.” Fred whipped around and plastered on a smile. Hermione was slightly pink in the face. The dream-like expression made Fred want to knock Krum off his broom at three hundred feet in the air. “We heard you just got asked to the Ball.”

“Oh, that.” Hermione sighed happily. “Keep it a secret will you? I want it to be a surprise.”

“Anything for the lady.” George piped up behind him. Fred nodded along. “Now, if you must, Fred and I have got a business to run.”

Once Hermione had left. George turned to Fred with a look of amusement. “Now I know why we’ve been ‘researching’ in the library.” Fred smacked his brother.

“Shut up.”

George simply grinned.

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Ginny Weasley still looked beautiful at the age of seventy-six. She stood by the hearth that both Ron and Hermione flooed through and welcomed them to her home. Harry ambled forward and gave his two best friends a hug._

_“I think we’re getting too old for this.” Ron joked as he had accidentally knocked Harry’s walking stick to the floor. Harry took one look at his two best friends and had known instinctively that Hermione needed some time alone with his wife. He insisted Ron try the new brand of Firewhiskey that he had discovered in Diagon Alley a fortnight ago. The men proceeded to the Living Room for a quick catch up._

_Hermione, on the other hand, had marched into the kitchen with an unfailing resolve to help Ginny with the meal. Ginny had set potatoes pealing themselves and the turkey filling itself with Christmas stuffing. Hermione washed her hands and took an apron from the hooks by the door and got to work. The two women worked wordlessly side by side. Ginny had known from years of friendship with the brunette that trying to stop her from helping was trying to stop a volcano from erupting. Both were equally as dangerous._

_“Have you heard from Hugo?” Ginny broke the silence._

_“Mmm? No, but he did send an owl telling us he will be joining us for Christmas dinner.” Hermione replied as they mixed the sugar into the eggs for the log cake._

_“I was looking through the album of photos the other day…” Ginny begun._

_“So was I.” Hermione gave Ginny a wry grin. “I was clearing the attic.”_

_“Look at how far we have come, Hermione.” Ginny gave a sigh. “It seemed like only yesterday that Lily was born. And here I am expecting Al’s first grandchild. I’m going to be a great grand mother again!” She gave an exasperated huff._

_“Those days at Hogwarts seem so far away.” Hermione agreed._

_“But you’ve not forgotten.”_

_“No, I have not. How could I?”_

_“We grew up too fast.”_

_“Yet, I wish I could go back in time just to redo it all over again.” Hermione sighed. “I could have saved him.”_

_“Hermione…” Ginny warned. It was one thing to be reminiscence about the past and another to live in it. To Ginny, Hermione was on the verge of slipping into the latter and she was adamant that Hermione would not fall back into depression. She would not and shall not witness Hermione’s guilt torment her again._

_The years proceeding Fred’s death had been arduous for the entire family as well as both Harry and Hermione. Ginny remembered Hermione during her last year of schooling, she had avoided the entire section of corridor where Fred had died. If she could, she would have avoided the entire floor but that was impossible since she had Charms class at that exact level so instead of walking through that particular corridor, she had always made a detour. Ginny had also shared a dormitory with Hermione, often waking up in the middle of the night hear soft sniffles coming from the closed curtains of Hermione’s bed._

_Ginny knew that Fred and Hermione had shared something that went beyond mere friendship. She could only guess the sheer agony that Hermione was experiencing. If she had lost Harry… She shuddered to consider that possibility. So she coaxed herself back to sleep and by the next morning, Hermione’s bed was empty and neatly made. It was as if something snapped within Hermione like a bow that had been strung too tight and was now broken. Hermione seemed to have put herself back together the moment she graduated, flinging herself into her job advocating for elf rights. And Ginny wanted to believe Hermione was completely fine again. It was easy to believe Hermione had moved on but it was moments like these that made Ginny doubt whether her best friend had truly gotten over the loss of her brother. Then again, Ginny could not blame her. She had nightmares of those dark times and if it were not for Harry’s unwavering support and strength, Ginny would have given in to darker thoughts that occupied the shadowy corners of her mind._

_As Ginny watched her best friend and beloved sister bite her lip and look forlornly into the distance, she cursed herself for bringing up the past. The snow seemed to drift lazily past the windowpanes, contrasting the rapid memories that seem to flit across Ginny’s mind. She placed a comforting hand on Hermione’s shoulder._

_“I found this in one of my old History of Magic textbooks.” Hermione brushed her hands against the apron and pulled out the old tattered photograph from the hidden pocket of her dress. She handed the photograph to Ginny. Ginny pulled her glasses from the top of her head and onto the bridge of her nose. She chuckled at the picture._

_“Oh yes, the good ol’ times. George was never quite the same after he died.”_

_“We all were never quite the same.”_

_“We all miss him. We all wished that those dark times had never happened during our time. A wise wizard once said “‘But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.’” Life is what we make it, Hermione.” Ginny placed the photo back into Hermione’s hands. “He would have wanted you to experience the life that he never got to live, the freedom that he died fighting for.”_

_With a soft sniffle Hermione was enveloped in Ginny’s embrace and she closed her eyes at the sense of comfort and refuge she found from this simple act of love and friendship. And for a moment, she was not Hermione Granger, Head of Department of the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement, one third of the golden trio who helped Harry Potter to defeat Voldemort. And Ginny Weasley was not the retired Chaser of the Hollyhead Harpies, correspondent of the Daily Prophet, Leader of Dumbledore’s Army, wife of Harry Potter. They were both simply two survivors from a war that took away everything from them and made them child soldiers. For a moment, they were simply two women who were stripped down to the well-concealed scars that this war had left them with. Both knew that it was the scars that could not be seen that took the longest to heal._

_“I want my memories back Ginny.” Hermione finally said._

_“Are you sure?” Ginny took a long look at her sister who nodded firmly._

_“All right. Let’s go up to my study.”_


	4. Save The Last Dance For Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lately? Lately I've been preoccupied with the notion of what the definition of beauty is and I guess every teenage girl wonders that too. Even now, we keep evaluating and reevaluating ourselves to determine what truly is beauty and whether physical appearance can trump character. 
> 
> Without a doubt, it's a rather sweet chapter for Fred and Hermione. Enjoy! :)

_Ginny led Hermione up into her private study on the third level and unlocked it with her wand. The office was neat and clean, shelves of Muggle books and parchment lined the walls. In the center of the room stood a large oak desk with an old typewriter, a few frames filled with the Potter children and a picture of Hermione and Ginny in their youth. Hermione had not been into Ginny’s office in a long time and was a little shocked to see the photo of them standing between one of Albus and Lily._

_Hermione picked up the photo. The two girls, 14 and 13, waved at the camera: Ginny making funny faces and Hermione smiling serenely into the camera, her bushy hair tied into a ponytail. There had been no war, no death, and no fear then. It was just two normal teenage girls getting ready to watch the World Cup._

_“Ah yes, that was before I got fat and wrinkly.” Ginny sighed dramatically and they both burst out laughing._

_“You still look beautiful Gin. I’m sure Harry must have told you that a thousand times already.”_

_“Harry’s my husband, it’s his job.” They laughed again._

_“Are you sure about this?” Ginny said. Hermione noticed that Ginny had taken out the pensieve, the bowl was shimmering with liquid but it was empty of Hermione’s memories. Ginny looked at Hermione, praying to whatever higher power that Hermione knew what she was doing because Hermione looked smaller and paler than usual. Ginny was wondering if Hermione had been getting nightmares again. But Hermione was not. She had not been plagued by these nightmares for almost a few decades._

_Hermione gave a stiff nod and Ginny sighed. She took out her wand and walked to the portrait of Fred on her wall. Fred was looking intently between Hermione and Ginny, as if anticipating a sparring contest. It never came. Hermione avoided looking at that piece of wall, keeping her eyes fixed on the pensieve, even as she felt his gaze on her._

_“Hermione wants her memories back Fred.” Ginny whispered. The siblings exchanged worried glances but Fred’s portrait swung open just the same and behind it was a small section of the wall carved out. Within this were three bottles of silver liquid. Ginny took two bottles out and placed them on the desk. Fred looked at Hermione sadly from his portrait, there was only one bottle of liquid left on the table behind him._

_“Take all the time you need.” Ginny said and closed the door behind her._

_Hermione uncorked the bottles and poured the silver liquid into the pensieve. She was about to dip her head in before a soft voice spoke up._

_“Don’t.” It was a plea._

_“Hush.”_

_“But—” Hermione had delved into her memories, whatever Fred’s portrait was about to say faded into nothing._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

The older Hermione stood at the side of the entrance to the Great Hall, positioning herself between Fred and her younger self. She never realized how handsome Fred had looked in his slightly old dress robes and combed hair. It gave him an air of elegance that Hermione had never noticed in her youth. But there were many things that Hermione had never noticed in her youth, in her desperation to achieve and excel.

Fred, on the other hand, had never seen anything more beautiful than Hermione in her periwinkle dress robes, peeping out from the corner of a pillar. He had made the mistake of turning around to check on Harry and almost choked on his spittle. Hermione was simply gorgeous that night and he was speechless. Hermione caught his eye and gave a tentative smile, as if unsure how receptive everyone else would be to the new Hermione. Harry seemed just as stunned as he was because Harry’s mouth was gaping open and he stared at Hermione who had now joined Krum in the Champion’s circle. Even Malfoy could not think of anything spiteful to say.

“Weasley! In to the Great Hall you go! Shoo! It’s about to start!” Professor Sprout hurried him along into the Great Hall. The magnificence of the decorations within the Great Hall fell past Fred as the only thing that captured his attention was the dancing brunette in Krum’s arms.

But as the night progressed Fred could only see her from a distance as she swayed to the music. Katie Bell snapped her fingers in front of his eyes.

“Fred! You’re stepping on my toes!” Katie huffed angrily. “If you’re tired, just say so. We can get refreshments.”

“Oh sorry!” He held Katie and led her away to the refreshments, trying as hard as he could not to look in the direction of the periwinkle robes dancing with the Bulgarian in his red dress robes.

And so Fred passed the evening in the company of his brother, his Quiddich teammates, the girls from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and Ludo Bagman. Occasionally chancing upon Hermione and her date but Hermione had been too busy listening to what the International Quiddich player had to say to notice anything else. Fred knew that dreamy look, it was the same look Hermione got when she was reading one of her muggle novels, the same look after she was asked to the Ball and Fred felt his stomach fall to his feet.

“She’s looking fit tonight Freddie.”

“Shut up.”

“Ask her for a dance!” George nudged him with his elbow. “I’ll take care of the birds here.”

Fred glanced at his twin who gave him a nod of encouragement. Fred stood up as he had sighted the brunette. She was sitting with her usual two best friends and he walked towards her.

“He’s using you!” Ron had cried indignantly. “You’re smart, he’s just using you to help him with his second task. Help that you should be giving to Harry instead, but you insist on being seduced by that…that…”

“That what Ron?” Hermione glared at him fiercely. Fred retreated slowly to where George was standing, George’s arms draped over a couple Beaubaxtons girls clearly enjoying himself, the lucky bastard.

Krum had made an appearance beside Hermione and she led him off in a fit of anger. Hermione’s anger was simmering within her. Yet there was another part of her that wondered whether it was true. People were simply using her for her brains. It was all she had after all. No one had said she was pretty and there had to be a reason why the Quiddich star had asked her out, selected her out of the many girls who would be all too willing to go to the Ball as his date.

No, she shook her head. She was not going to let Ron ruin her night. But ruin he did. Ron had managed to extract Hermione from Krum by accusing him of his not too innocent attempts to seduce Hermione. Krum had left Ron and Hermione standing outside the Gryffindor Tower, bidding her a rather curt goodbye. Hermione was devastated.

“You ruin everything Ron!”

“What? I’m looking out for your best interest!”

“You know what I think?”

“By all means Hermione, say what you think. I don’t think the word ‘no’ has ever stopped you before.”

“I think you’re just jealous that Krum asked me out before you decided to.”

“What? Me? Jealous?” Ron spluttered. “You’re crazy Hermione. What makes you think anyone wants to date you?”

Hermione stood there, willing herself not to cry.

“You just don’t see it do you? Krum is using you! I don’t like it! I thought you were smarter than that Hermione!” 

“Well, if you don’t like it, you know what the solution is, don’t you?” she shouted.

“Oh yeah?” Ron yelled back. “What’s that?”

“Next time there’s a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!”

After a shouting match in the Common Room, Hermione had retreated to the girls’ dormitory for some solitude and silence but Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil kept badgering her with information about her date so Hermione stomped back downstairs to the Common Room. It was quite empty now so she curled up by the fireplace and cried silently. Crookshakes, her trusty cat, leapt onto the couch and started to purr and rub himself against her legs.

The older Hermione saw Fred’s arrival in the Common Room, looking slightly melancholic—an unusual feat for the prankster. He had been unintentionally looking for the brunette all over the castle and thought that she was snogging Krum somewhere in the dark corners of the castle. He seemed to have spotted Hermione, his entire face lit up and there was a spring in his step as he walked over to her.

“Hey.” Hermione knew that voice anywhere. Fred sat down beside her. “What a way to end the night eh?”

Hermione sighed and nodded sadly.

“Come on, Ron’s a git. He’s a huge effing git.” Fred placed his arm around her shoulders and revelled in the fact that she slowly rested her head against his shoulders. Her forehead rested against his neck, she probably could feel the rapid heart beat that seemed to Fred to be echoing around the entire common room. She did not speak, so Fred did.

“You look beautiful tonight. Has anyone, besides Krum, told you that?”

“I don’t know exactly whether Krum’s comment was a compliment or an insult.” Hermione sighed.

“What did the ol’ Bulgarian say?”

“I was prettiful?” Hermione murmured, she sounded uncertain even to herself and berated herself mentally for sounding like an insecure little girl. Fred snorted.

“Well, take it from me, you’re beautiful and you have always been beautiful.” Fred told her earnestly. Fred was not sure when he found Hermione beautiful physically but Hermione was a kind, spirited person, and that was enough for him. She may have annoyed him to no end about SPEW and elf rights but that was simply who she was and Fred would not have it any other way.

Hermione was silent. She stared at the fire. 

“Ron’s just blind. Or maybe he’s jealous you got to be with Krum and he didn’t.” That elicited a laugh from the brunette beside him. Fred felt elated at being able to cheer her up.

“What a waste of an evening.” Hermione sighed.

“Not a waste.” Fred declared. Hermione glanced up at him quizzically. Fred got to his feet and bowed down low and held out his hand to her. “Would you, Hermione, do me the honor of dancing with me?”

“I’d be delighted to.” Hermione grinned and took his hand.

Fred pulled her to her feet and placed an arm around her waist, just like McGonagall taught them. They waltzed around the Common Room for a while to a tune of rapidly beating heartbeats and the soft licking of flames from the hearth. For a moment, there was nothing else in the world Fred would rather have than this moment.

He looked down at the beautiful girl in periwinkle robes and wondered if he could pull her close. Fred did not have to wonder long for Hermione had stepped a little closer to him and he a little closer to her as they swayed along to their imagined music.

“Merry Christmas Hermione.” Fred murmured into her ear as the clock in the Common Room struck twelve.

Brown met blue and the world seemed to slow down for a little while. The snow outside did not seem to fall so hard and the entire common room seemed to glow just a little brighter as boy and girl danced before the fireplace. It was almost perfect.


	5. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love... Sometimes you get it right the first time, sometimes you get it right after many many tries. Here is Fred being an idiot because he doesn't know what to do with his feelings for Hermione. At least he's admitted to himself that he fancies her though. 
> 
> Ah yes, the dreams Hermione has been having. Well, it's definitely not part of the Harry Potter world. You'll find out soon enough what those dreams mean!
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy! Review and kudos! Thank you:)

“Fred Weasley!” Hermione stomped over to the redhead, who was currently seated with his feet propped up on one of the various desks in the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione had just come back from her date with the illustrious Viktor Krum but she smelled as if she had spent her date in the garbage dumps. Many of the onlookers held fingers to their noses and laughed at the bushy haired brunette cruelly.

Last week, Viktor had showed up outside the castle looking like he had just recovered from some gross mouth disease, his tongue was slightly swollen. It looked suspiciously like the result of the Ton-Tongue Toffees Fred and George possessed. Hermione had brushed that off aside but today had been the last straw.

After weeks and weeks of ignoring her, Hermione had grown tired of Fred’s moods. At least Krum was brave enough to admit that he had feelings for Hermione and asked her out on a date.

Fred looked up from his order forms and rearranged his features to reflect calmness and apathy. There were many others in the Gryffindor Common Room whom Fred did not want to see his expression that was caught in a mixture of glee at the success of his latest prank and apprehension of what would befall him with the brunette standing threateningly over him, her wand pointed at his face. Fred had known that Krum, the slick git, was dating Hermione and it was hard for him to ignore it and go about with his usual activities as per normal when Krum was blasically flaunting it in his face that he had the Gryffindor resident nerd and Fred did not.

“O lovely Hermione, what can I do for you?” Fred gave her a polite smile.

“Fred Weasley, you’d better stop rolling stink bombs into the Drumstrang ship!” Hermione whispered angrily. “I know it’s you and you’d better stop it now! I don’t know what Viktor did to upset you but you’re just being as childish as Ron.”

“Why is it that every time something bad happens on your date, you look to me to lay blame?” Fred asked angrily. In truth, he was a little hurt that Hermione had compared him to Ron. He was far better than Ron, who was still skulking around and throwing tantrums every time someone mentioned the name “Krum”.

“Because—because—” Hermione spluttered. She was holding on to a small strand of hope that Fred, for all his nonchalance and indifference the following weeks after their little moment in the Common Room, might pluck up the courage to give the pair of them some closure on the matter. Apparently, that was too much to hope for. And Hermione had then taken Viktor up on the invitation to accompany him on a date to Hogsmead. As she looked at the red head in front of her who was glaring up at her with frosty cerulean eyes, she felt her stomach sink. She was a fool.

“Forget it.” Hermione hissed and stomped off back to the girls’ dormitory. It had been the best place Hermione could think of to retreat to, away from the boys in the Gryffindor Common Room. She paced around her room but she had been feeling unnaturally tired. She lay her head down.

Hermione’s dreams had been dark of late, it was getting worse as Harry’s third task drew nearer. Hermione was wondering if she was being possessed but Ginny had described what it felt like to be possessed and this was certainly not it. Hermione’s dreams were not of Voldemort but of another creature. So she let it slide. Maybe her subconscious was trying to tell her something evil was coming. Yes, that must be it, Hermione thought before her eyelids had become too heavy to hold open.

She could not remember how she got to France but here she was, still wandering around the streets of Paris. This time, she knew what awaited her in the dilapidated church. As the dream Hermione peeped through the wooden boards inside, she could see about twenty people gathered around a cauldron, surrounded in a ring of fire. They were chanting and swaying in a sickly demonic fashion. The church looked as if it had never been completed and it was darker than night within its walls. The only source of light was the circle of flame.

“Death… Death… Death…” They chanted. “You will rise again.”

From the cauldron, blood red fumes were seeping out. They curled around the flames as the liquid within bubbled. Hermione was drawn to the strange sight. The fumes were starting to take shape and slowly a figure could be seen through the fumes. A black winged creature’s silhouette turned around, observing those gathered to him.

“Tonight, we shall dine on Earth, my faithful soldiers.” The creature’s voice was low and husky. “Tonight, I shall be reunited with my children and I shall bathe in their blood!”

Those gathered around roared like wild beasts, stamping their feet and beating their chests. Hermione felt sick as she watched the people drag an unconscious girl to the center of the room. She was bleeding and badly injured, her arm hung at an awkward angle and Hermione could glimpse a bone jutting out of her right shoulder.

The winged creature turned slowly towards the girl and gave a malicious smile. One of the people chanting took a knife and got ready to slit her throat. Hermione closed her eyes. The cheers from those gathered made Hermione want to curse them all into oblivion. When she opened her eyes, the winged creature was staring at her. He gave her a malicious smile.

“Victory requires sacrifice, child.” He stated simply. “Keep that in mind when you choose a side. I will be there to claim what’s mine.” He cackled and fanned her away with his hands. As if she were non-corporal, the fumes pushed her further and further away from the church.

Hermione could not fall back to sleep after the dream. She got up and dressed herself hastily before hurrying down to the Common Room. Today was the third task for the Triwizard champions, supposedly the hardest task. Hermione paced the Common Room. Harry's killer had been unsuccessful thus far. It seemed as if he was not trying too hard, letting Harry breeze past the first two tasks. It was almost too easy. Hermione knew instinctively something was going to happen today. How was she going to stop it?

Hermione was so deep in thought that she did not notice Ginny had gotten up and was walking down to the Common Room and Hermione slammed right into the younger girl.

"Oh I'm so sorry Ginny!" Hermione cried. "I was just thinking."

"You're worried about something."

"Of course I am."

"Harry's going to be fine. You should have more faith in him."

Hermione ignored her and continued to pace.

"Look, Harry is going to be fine." Ginny placed a reassuring hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Why don't you tell me what sweet things Viktor has done this month?"

Hermione conceded to Ginny's request and they sat themselves in the corner of the Common Room.

"Well, he's been really sweet, buying me flowers and chocolates. The last Hogsmead trip, he brought me to the bookstore and requested for the finest quills to be brought to him. And he bought me the eagle feather quill I'm using now."

Ginny's eyes sparkled and danced. "That's quite romantic."

"He likes to watch me study." Hermione stated rather matter-of-fact.

Ginny squealed. Hermione simply stared at her. Although Hermione loved the romance stories in her novels and had to admit that her courtship of Viktor was very similar to that of any of her books but Hermione had expected something more… significant. Hermione did not expect to be showered with gifts every time nor did she expect loud shows of love. She did not know what she was searching for but it was not present in her relationship with Viktor.

"You're not as overjoyed as I thought you would be." Ginny stated. "Drop those romantic notions from your muggle novels, this is real life. It's as close as it gets to romantic."

A thought crossed her mind. Fred. She pondered whether she should tell the youngest Weasley. They were siblings afterall. But if she could not share things with Ginny, she did not know who she could confide in.

"Fred was really sweet to me the night of the Yule Ball."

Ginny's head snapped up. "I didn't see you with him that night."

"Oh no one did. You had all gone to bed."

"What did he do?" Ginny's eyes were wide.

"We talked a little. You know—after Ron and his nonsense, I was feeling really down."

"And?"

"He asked me to dance."

"That's it?"

"Yes, and he has been ignoring me ever since."

Ginny swore something that Mrs. Weasley would be flabbergasted to hear her only daughter utter.

"That git." Ginny shook her head. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" She threw a cushion at the brunette.

"I didn't think it was important."

"Not—" Ginny spluttered. "Of course it is important! I'm going to have to speak to that boy."

"No!" Hermione shook her head.

Ginny ignored her and stomped up the stairs of the boy's dormitory. Hermione sighed. It was a lost cause, she might as well go and get some breakfast. She had missed dinner the previous night since she slept right through it. She walked down, making a mental list of what to do with the remaining day. Transfiguration. Charms. Remind Harry of the spells he had learnt…

Meanwhile, Ginny had been causing a racket in the sixth year boys’ dormitory. She had found Fred and pounced on him, startling him awake.

"You—are—such—an—idiot!" She said in between whacks to the head with his spare pillow.

"Gerroff me you lunatic!" Fred pushed her off him and stumbled to his feet. "What did I do now?"

"If this is about the frog spawn, it was an accident." George piped up sleepily from the bed beside. Lee had gotten up, cursing and gone downstairs where at least he would have some more hours of peace.

"It's not about that." Ginny said as she heard Lee's footsteps fade away. "I know you fancy Hermione!" She burst out. George gave a low chuckle. Ginny sat cross-legged on Fred's bed and peered up at her brother.

"What are you on about?" Fred asked a little too quickly. Fred had been feeling really bad about snapping at Hermione the night before and was going to apologize to her. But she had not appeared at dinner and Fred was feeling horrible, wondering if he had made her cry.

"Don't be a prat and stop ignoring her Freddie."

"That's what I've been telling him these past few months." George said, coming to stand beside his twin.

"Hermione likes boys with courage." Ginny said. "You're in Gryffindor aren't you? Talk to her!"

"Ginny, I don't know what's your problem is. I do not fancy Hermione." Fred muttered.

"Of course you do!" Ginny flicked a stray strand of hair back. "She's not too taken by Krum."

"Why should I bother?" Fred asked, sighing feeling a little resigned. So much for Gryffindor bravery. He couldn't even bring himself to talk to her. He had been confused and worried that he was losing his mind but it was really something as simple as this: he fancied Hermione. And no matter how much he tried to deny it or push it aside, it would not go away.

"Because you've got to be like Mr. Darcy!" Ginny burst out, frustrated by Fred's lack of response.

"Mr. who?"

"He's a character in a muggle novel that Hermione likes to read. He perseveres and gets Elizabeth Bennet in the end!"

"Right…" Fred walked over to his drawers and picked out a pair of jeans and a sweater.

"Oh, just go talk to her now." Ginny said. "Or not. It's your loss." She left the room.

Fred contemplated. He was going to apologize to Hermione. He would stop pranking the Bulgarian git. He needed a plan. When had any of his plans worked nicely? Finally Fred conceded to talking to her. Just a 'hi' and a heartfelt apology before heading to the Quiddich stands. Maybe he would ask her to join Lee, George and him in the Quiddich stands. But he got there a little too late.

Standing not five feet away was Hermione and Krum, snogging. Krum had one hand curled around her scalp and the other on her back. Fred felt a sudden sickness wash over him. He turned around. He was going to kill Ginny.

Hermione broke away from the kiss. It had been unexpected and yet unspectacular. She had been meaning to wish Viktor good luck when he caught her and kissed her right there in the middle of the field. She thought her first kiss would have been fireworks and explosions but all she could think of was she was running low on oxygen. Kissing Viktor Krum, my my, not bad for a nerdy little Gryffindor know-it-all, she thought to herself smugly imagining what Pansy's face would look like if she had seen.

"Good luck Viktor." She whispered and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you Herm-own-ninny." Viktor bowed low and pressed his lips to her knuckles. She spotted Fred over Krum's bowed back. Viktor left for the champion's tent and Hermione watched the red head skulk away. Hermione was going to kill Ginny.

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_"Aunt Hermione?"_

_Hermione was pulled away from the pensieve. She looked round and saw a tall red head poking her head into the room. She was the replica of her mother, with hints and traces of her father. Lily Luna Potter stood in the doorway with an uncertain expression._

_"Mum says dinner is ready." Lily said, stepping into the room._

_"I'll be down shortly. Could you be a dear and return this to the portrait?" Hermione requested._

_Lily took the two corked bottles that Hermione had filled once more with her memories and brought it to the portrait. Fred sighed and opened it, letting Lily store the bottles within the wall. When the portrait had swung closed, there were three bottles behind Fred once more. Lily gave her uncle’s portrait a small smile. He simply shook his head and left, leaving a muddy backdrop and the three bottles of liquid behind._

_"Come on Aunt Hermione. Scorpius bought your favorite tea from China and he's been dying to try it since we came back to London." Lily loped an arm around Hermione and walked with her down to the dining room where an expectant Ron was sitting, suspicious._

_"What have you been up to?" He asked, frowning._

_"I've been in Ginny's study." Hermione's tone dared Ron to contradict her, to stop her. He opened his mouth but Harry put a hand on Ron's shoulder in warning._

_Sensing a fight, Lily pulled her Aunt further along the large oak table and sat her down between her cousin, Dominique and herself. Scorpius and Lily exchanged a look._

_This evening was going to be eventful._

_When was it ever not?_


End file.
